Past the Point of No Return
by chochowilliams
Summary: Sequel to: "A Lesson in Werewolves". Professor Schmale assigned them as partners for their senior thesis project. Nobody expected their partnership to extend to the bedroom. Sequel, Drama, Romance, Angst, 8th-Year Fic, Male Slash, Sexual Situation, Harry/Draco, past Harry/Ginny, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger


**Past the Point of No Return**

**One-Shot**

**Sequel to:** "A Lesson in Werewolves"

**Written by:** chochowilliams

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Harry Potter _or the characters, places or names. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Summary: **Professor Schmale assigned them as partners for their senior thesis project. Nobody expected their partnership to extend to the bedroom.

**Warning:** Sequel, Drama, Romance, Angst, 8th-Year Fic, Male Slash, Sexual Situation, Language

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, past Harry/Ginny, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

**Inserts: **"Past the Point of No Return", from _Phantom of the Opera_

**A/N:** The previous fic takes place at the beginning of the new school year. This one starts at the next lesson, but skips to the end of the year. Do you need to have read the first to understand what is going on? Maybe. Maybe not. A reminder: I do not use a Beta so any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Enjoy and remember to leave a review.

**oOo**

_I have brought you_

_That our passions may fuse and merge_

_In your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses_

_Completely succumbed to me_

_Now you are here with me_

_No second thoughts_

_You've decided_

_Decided._

**-"Past the Point of No Return", from **_**Phantom of the Opera**_

**I**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Magical Creatures class - September**

"Alright," Professor Schmale called from the front of the classroom. The noise level dropped almost immediately as the eighteen seventh and eighth year Gryffindor and Slytherin students settled down. "A few weeks ago, I touched briefly on the senior thesis paper you will have to write. Today, I want to go more in depth."

Groans met this announcement.

Professor Schmale whipped out her wand and flicked it at a pile of papers on the desk behind her. While the top most sheet sailed into her hand, the rest of the papers rose into the air where they split into six separate piles and floated down onto the tables before the six students sitting at the front of the classroom.

"Take one and pass the rest back," she explained over the shoveling of papers. "What you are getting talks about everything we are going to be discussing just in case you miss something or we don't finish in time." Professor Schmale paced the front of the classroom. "Like I said, this paper will make up fifty percent of your grade. Failure to complete and turn in this assignment by May 15th will result in a failure for this class. Before we get into what exactly a senior thesis paper is or what the requirements are, I am going to assign you a partner."

More groans and grumbles met this declaration.

"You and your partner will be working together on this assignment. And I hope all of you are mature enough to not act like five year olds over who your partner is," she said as she scanned the miserable faces of her students. "I do not want to hear any whining or bitching or moaning. Do not ask me if you can switch partners because that is not going to happen." Professor Schmale's gaze found Hermione Granger who was sitting front and center scribbling away. "And please keep track of who does what. If I discover that one partner is doing the majority of the work, for whatever reason, you will both receive an incomplete."

Mutterings broke out at this.

"Now, I am going to pair you off. Then we'll go into more detail about the paper. After which, you will be able to use whatever remaining time we have to break up into pairs and discuss your assignment." Professor Schmale glanced down at the sheet she was holding. "First pair: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Second pair: Ronald Weasley and…," she continued over the whispered voices that broke out.

The rivalry between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter was legendary. It was the first piece of gossip she heard upon her arrival at Hogwarts. However, in the few weeks classes have been in session, she noticed that the war here in Great Britain had changed the dynamic between them. She just hoped putting the two of them together was not a mistake.

**II**

**Gryffindor Common Room - June**

With hands planted on her hips, Hermione Granger scanned the common room. Not surprisingly, there were only a few Gryffindors scattered about. Despite the fact that exams were still ongoing, most had decided to take advantage of the early arrival of summer. Those who remained inside on such a glorious day were few and consisted of a first year named Jerome Timmons who appeared to be sound asleep-if the obnoxious snoring was anything to go by-at a table in the far corner. If Timmons were anything like her Ron, he would be drooling all over the book he was using as a pillow. His tablemate and fellow first year Harriet Oxborough looked on with disgust. Hermione smiled in nostalgia at the sight. A couple of third year boys were playing Wizarding chess. And curled up on the sofa before the roaring fire with a book was Ginny. Who she did not see was Harry. In fact, she has not seen her best friend all day.

There was a loud clatter behind her as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open.

"There you are," Hermione called to the newcomer. "Where's Harry?"

"Isn't he with Professor Schmale?" Ronald Weasley asked as he crossed towards her. He leaned down to kiss her chastely on the lips in greeting. "He said at breakfast his appointment was this afternoon didn't he?"

"Yes, but that was an hour ago."

Unconcerned, Ron shrugged. "Maybe he's still with her," he suggested. "Your appointment was nearly two hours long."

"Yes, but…" Hermione worried her lip.

"But nothing. Don't worry so much. I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Hey, Gin," he called out to his sister. "You seen Harry?"

"No," was the curt answer.

The brusque response had both Ron and Hermione taken aback. They exchanged looks that were equal parts confused, surprised and concerned.

With Ron right behind her, Hermione perched on the edge of the sofa besides the girl. "Is everything all right?" she asked gently.

"Perfectly," Ginny snapped from behind her book entitled _The Her-story of the Harpies._

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Ron before turning back towards Ginny. "Did something happen between you and Harry last night?"

"No."

"You know if anything happened-"

Ginny closed her book with a snap before turning towards Hermione. "Nothing-happened," she reiterated insistently.

Hermione frowned. It was clear the girl was lying. "You mean nothing happened between the two of you or-?" She started when Ginny climbed to her feet. "Gin-?"

"If you want to know what happened then ask Harry." With her book clutched to her breast, Ginny spun around and vanished up the stairs to the seventh year girls' dorm leaving Hermione and Ron to gape after her.

"What was that about?" Ron asked nobody in particular.

Her eyes narrowed in thought, Hermione pursed her lips. She had an idea what might be going on between Ginny and Harry, but she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

**III**

**Eighth Year Slytherin Dorm Rooms - Same Time**

"Dra…co!"

It was hot. So very hot.

"Ah…!"

Their twisting bodies were soaked with sweat.

"Nn…!"

The bed sheet snaked around their entwined limbs.

"Uh…!"

A husky yet breathless chuckle filled the moon lit chamber.

"Dray…," panted his equally breathless partner above the rhythmic squeaking of the bedsprings and the thudding of the headboard against the wall.

Planting his hands as pale as the moonlight streaming in through the large casement bow window on either side of his lover's head, Draco half rose above the man who was moaning erotically in delirium while his hips continued to piston and his engorged cock thrust into the more than compliant man beneath him.

Those Killing Curse green eyes, glazed over in passion, rolled back.

"Say…it," Draco ordered.

"Nn…!"

"Say it…Harry," Draco demanded with a pointed thrust that arched Harry's back off the bed.

"Ugh…!" Harry's grip slipped down Draco's sweat slickened arms. "Love…you!"

"Again!"

"Love you! Nn…! God…!"

Draco's rhythm changed without warning, his thrusts sped up and became erratic.

Harry shifted his sweaty grip to Draco's shoulders and hitched his legs up under Draco's arms. "Uh…!"

It was hot.

"Aah…!"

He couldn't breathe.

"Ooh…!"

His heart felt as if it were on the verge of exploding.

"Oh…fuck!"

As they undulated together, the pleasure ricocheted through Harry almost violently; it curled his toes and bowed his back.

Draco came with a stilted grunt, spilling his seed deeply within Harry just as the raven-haired savior shot his all over their chests. One, two, three more thrusts as he rode out his orgasm before Draco fell to his elbows above Harry. He hung his head as he tried to catch his breath. A droplet of sweat rolled down his nose. When his shaking arms gave out, he collapsed atop Harry who grunted.

Grimacing, Draco gathered what little strength he had and rolled off Harry, who gasped as Draco pulled out of him.

Prone upon the luxurious bed sheets that had been the final gift from his father-imported from France-before he was sent to Azkaban, Draco turned his head with a self-satisfied smirk. Harry was laid out upon the mattress covered in sweat and come, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his heart more than likely racing. The sight had Draco's flaccid cock twitching. "All right there?" he asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

Harry merely grunted.

Draco chuckled. "You are _very_ welcome," he said smugly.

Harry snorted.

A comfortable silence enveloped the couple, though Draco started to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the come coating his chest began to dry. And as the sweat dried and his adrenaline returned to normal levels, he began to shiver from the cold that was a permanent part of castle life even in the middle of the summer.

"So," he drawled as he turned his head to the side to look at Harry. "Feel up to a-? Harry?" Draco propped himself up on his elbows. "Harry." Soft even breathing reached his ears. Harry had fallen asleep. Groaning, Draco flopped onto his back, bouncing lightly. "Of course." He sighed heavily. With one last look at his boyfriend who had started to snore lightly, Draco grabbed his wand from the bedside table and cast a _scourify_ over them both before drawing up the covers. He curled up alongside Harry, an arm draped securely around Harry's waist and was asleep within moments of closing his eyes.

**III**

**The Next Day**

The heavy black drapes glowed purple in the bright morning sun early the next day.

The day promised to be a scorcher, but the heat was stopped from infiltrating the ancient castle by a mixture of wards as old as the castle itself along with the natural architecture of the castle itself. As a result, the bedchamber in the temporary eighth-year dorm was as cool as if a muggle air conditioner was running full blast. Even after seven years, Harry still was not used to the castle's internal climate.

With a towel draped around his neck, Harry padded barefoot from the attached private bath to the magically expanded bed. His toes sank into the plush burgundy carpet as he gazed down at the lump buried beneath the white down comfortable.

It was unusual for Harry to be up so early voluntarily, but he was just so happy that he had been unable to sleep any longer.

"Happy" was not the right word to describe how Harry was feeling. Giddy. Ecstatic. Those were closer, but still not even close to being in the same ballpark. All he could say with absolute certainty was that he has never felt like this before. Not even Ginny had made him feel as if he could fly to the moon without a broom. It was fast becoming apparent that this euphoric high was addictive.

Just then Draco gave a snort in his sleep, which made Harry snort in amusement for Draco was never going to believe that he made such an undignified noise, before rolling over and presenting Harry with his bare back. With a shuddered exhale and a delicious shiver that raced down his spine, Harry decided to leave Draco to his beauty sleep before he jumped the other. That didn't sound like such a bad idea until he remembered that Draco was a bit of a grump in the mornings, especially when he was woken up before he was ready to get up. Boyfriend or not. Nookie or not. That was not going to go over very well.

Running his towel through the ends of his damp hair, Harry crossed to the vanity table.

The sight that greeted him was incredulous; there were more beauty products than your average drugstore. This included bottles and vials filled with various colored substances. There were also three round containers that vaguely resembled hot boxes-each smaller than the last. A quick check showed each of those held even more containers filled with liquids, powders as well as creams.

"Wow."

He really should not be surprised given Draco's obsession with his looks. But he'd had no idea the obsession was this bad. Draco had more beauty products than all the women Harry knew put together, including Ginny and she wore more makeup than every super model on the planet-and hadn't that been a revelation.

With a snort, Harry tossed his towel onto the chair sitting at the vanity table and then went to grab a comb, but his hand froze mid-grab.

"Why the heck does he have so many combs?" he wondered a loud.

Laid out on what looked like a silk handkerchief with the initials DLM embroidered in the corner was half a dozen combs of various sizes and styles. There were even several different brushes.

"Unbelievable."

Grabbing a comb at random, Harry started to run it through his hair when one of the bottles caught his attention. This one he recognized. It was hair gel. Draco did not always use it, but he was always trying to get Harry to use it.

A quick glance over his shoulder assured him that his boyfriend was sound asleep.

Harry blushed at the thought of Draco Malfoy as his boyfriend. That inevitably led to thoughts of the night before. He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, as his jeans grew tight.

Setting the comb down, Harry grabbed the bottle of hair gel and poured a small amount in his hand.

This is where watching Draco obsessively-not that he would ever admit to that-came in handy.

Harry rubbed his hands together, spreading the gel evenly, and then combed his fingers through his hair, back to front. After wiping his hands on his towel, he grabbed a comb, again at random, and ran it through his hair. He was not sure if it was Draco's shampoo and conditioner that he'd stolen in the shower, the hair gel or the combination of all three, but the comb actually slide smoothly through his normally unruly rat's nest. That was a first.

If Draco discovered what Harry did, Harry knew he would never live it down, so he vowed not to say anything-well, unless Draco tortured it out of him. Harry blushed at the kind of "torture" he was likely to endure by the blond's hands.

Clearing his throat, he returned the comb and the vial of hair gel to their respective places, tossed the towel in the hamper before Draco had a conniption and then grabbed his wand from the nightstand to _scourify_ his hands.

Rounding the bed, Harry placed a chaste kiss on Draco's cheek before grabbing his trainers and exiting the room.

But not before pausing before the mirror hanging above the vanity table. His reflection caught him by surprise. For the first time that he could remember, his hair did not look as if he had jabbed a fork into a muggle outlet.

"Holy bloody hell," Harry cursed. "I look like a black haired Draco Malfoy."

He wasn't sure how he felt about the transformation. It was too new and too sudden a change. It certainly was different. He knew beyond any doubt that Draco was going to love his hair and really, that was all that mattered, he realized with a swell of pride.

The temporary eighth year common room was different from the common rooms in each of the four Hogwarts houses in two ways. The first was that the eighth year dorm had no house color. It was done in a neutral palette of whites, tans and beiges. Secondly, unlike the others Hogwarts students, all the eighth years-given that there were so few of them-had their own private bedroom with attached private bath that they were able to decorate as they pleased, within reason of course. There were also four doorways guarded by portraits that led from the common room to each of the four house common rooms. The eighth years could come and go as they pleased, but to prevent the younger years from using them, they had been warded.

The eighth years also had free reign to come and go to Hogsmeade whenever they pleased. Of course, they to show decorum and respect and not abuse their privilege otherwise it would be taken away. They could also not rejoin their old house quidditch teams or even start a new team with their new housemates, at least officially; an unofficial scrimmage game was fine. But that was a small price to pay for the extra freedom allotted to them.

"Hey."

Startled, Harry twirled around with a gasp. His trainers feel to the floor with twin thuds.

Sitting in an armchair besides an open window with her nose buried in a book thicker than Hagrid's thigh, was Hermione.

"'Mione," he breathed with a hand splayed over his rapidly beating heart.

"You're up early."

Harry shrugged, trying for nonchalant, but failing when he felt his face grow hot.

Eying her friend over the top of her book, Hermione said, "We talked to Ginny yesterday."

Harry flinched at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. They had not parted on companionable terms the day before.

"I was right, wasn't I?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Harry lied with a drawl and a stubborn lift of his chin.

"Uh huh."

Harry's blush deepened at the amused tilt of her lips and the twinkle in her eye.

She giggled lightly in response.

The air turned suddenly serious as Harry slipped into the armchair that was separated from Hermione's by a small round side table. He leaned forward with his hands clasped between his knees and sighed.

Closing her book, she set it on the low bookcase beneath the window before perching herself on the edge of the chair and angling herself towards him, her hands clasped demurely in her lap.

"Ginny…," Harry started. "She thinks I cheated on her."

"Did she actually say that?" Hermione inquired cautiously.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed regretfully. That accusation still stung.

"But…why?" she asked with a look of confusion on her face. 

With a sigh, Harry dropped his head back against the back of the armchair and stared up at wooden beams that stretched across the high ceiling. "Probably for the same reason you did."

"Oh, Harry. I'm really sorry about that."

Harry shrugged. "It's true enough."

There was a gasp and then, "Tell me you didn't!"

"What?" Confused, Harry lifted his head and saw Hermione sitting ramrod straight on the edge of the chair with her hands clasped over her mouth. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and there was a mixed expression on her face of disbelief and horror. It didn't take long for Harry to realize the assumption Hermione must have made based on what he'd said. "Oh, Merlin, no," he denied vehemently with a wave of his hands. "That's not what I meant! I would never cheat!"

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"What I meant," Harry explanation, "is that when you accused me of being in love with Draco, I-" The blush that had retreated flared back to life. "It took some serious soul searching, but…" Harry looked his best friend in the eye. "I realized that sometime while working with him on our senior thesis over the course of the year, I'd-fallen in love him."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione cooed. "I'm so proud of you!"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Harry stared at his trainers sitting idly in front of Draco's door. "Thanks. I have you to thank."

"Me? How?"

"'You look happy.'"

Hermione blinked. "Huh?"

Harry gazed back at his confused friend. "That was what you said that first had me rethinking things. It may have taken almost all semester, but…here we are."

Hermione smiled at him. "I'm happy for you."

"Thank you but," Harry's face fell. "What about-?"

"Ginny?"

"Yeah."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry about her. Ginny is a big girl. Right now she's hurting, but she'll eventually get over the break up and move on."

"And if she doesn't?"

She will."

"But what if she doesn't?"

Hermione shrugged. "We'll deal it when and if that should become a problem. But listen to me, Harry. Ginny is no longer your responsibility."

Harry nodded. He knew that. He really did, but he felt so guilty for hurting her. Part of him agreed with her accusation that he had been leading her on this entire time. It hadn't been his intention to break her heart though. At one point, he truly thought that she was the one he would spend the rest of his life with. But then he'd been thrown a curve ball.

Hermione was the first to realize that what Harry believed were merely feelings of friendship were more than that.

Who would have thought that of all people Harry Potter could have feelings for, he would fall in love with the one person other than Voldemort who'd driven him completely insane.

"I didn't plan for this to happen," Harry whispered into the comfortable silence that had fallen.

"There are no blueprints for life," Hermione returned.

Harry snorted. "Tell me about it," he deadpanned. "When I told Ginny last month that I needed some time to think, she didn't expect that the next time we spoke, I would be breaking up with her to 'play house' with Draco. I completely blindsided her."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry pressed on.

"But If I hadn't taken that time, I might have committed the crime Ginny accused me of."

Reaching out, Hermione clasped Harry's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you're happy."

Harry flipped his hand over and squeezed her hand in return. "Thank you."

"By the way," she added as she withdrew her hand and sat back, "I love your hair."

"Thanks," Harry blushed. "I, uh, kind of stole Draco's hair gel."

Hermione snickered as she pulled her book back into her lap. "Your secret is safe with me."

Harry chuckled. "Appreciated."

**IV**

**Hogwarts Grounds - That Evening**

A light breeze rippled through the grass and rustled through the leaves, keeping the majority of the heat at bay. Also at a distance were the other students. Only their voices floating on the breeze and muffled by distance could reach the lovers spread out on the bank of the lake.

"Have you spoken to the Weaselette?" Draco inquired with his usual drawl.

"Not since I broke up with her. Why?" Harry asked with a frown. He was genuinely confused as to why his boyfriend was inquiring after his ex-girlfriend.

"Because," Draco answered from where he was lounging with his head in Harry's lap, "she's been giving me the Evil Eye all day."

Harry winced. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"You have nothing to apologize for. She is clearly jealous."

"Yeah, but still…"

"Harry," Draco drawled with a sigh. He rolled onto his side and gazed up into the emerald orbs of the man watching him with the same expression he knew he was sporting: as if nobody but the other existed. Draco cupped Harry's cheek. It was warm to the touch. "Stop. Alright?"

Nodding, Harry leaned into his boyfriend's touch, which felt cool against his flushed face. A smile fluttered to his lips to match the fluttering in his stomach. Both seemed to have taken up permanent residence. He trapped Draco's hand on his cheek with one hand while the other fingered the silky blond locks free of product that day. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Grew a brain," Draco deadpanned.

Harry clucked his tongue and slugged a snickering Draco on the shoulder. "Jerk," he chuckled.

"Yeah, but you love this jerk."

"You should be so lucky," Harry snorted.

"I am, aren't I?" Draco boasted proudly.

"You are so full of yourself."

"No. That was you." Draco smirked.

Harry blushed as red as the apple he ate for breakfast.

"Come here Potter," Draco ordered. He threaded his fingers behind Harry's head and yanked him down.

Just as their lips met, Harry whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," Draco returned, equally breathless. He pulled Harry's head down a little bit more before halting a hairsbreadth away, smirking when Harry groaned impatiently. "By the way, love the hair." Harry's words were muffled by Draco's lips.

**V**

Ginny watched from the shade of a tree as Draco Malfoy crawled atop _her_ boyfriend. As she watched their undulating movements and listened to their passionate cries, white-hot fury tore through her. Her nails dig furrows into the tree.

This was far from the end.

Oh no.

She was not going to let Harry go without a fight.

That was a promise.

…**The End**

**A/N:** I really had not meant for that last part to exist. It was to end with Draco and Harry out on the grounds. But my muse insisted. She speaks. I obey. Otherwise, she stages a protest and flees to the Caribbean, leaving me to suffer alone. So because of that little curveball I myself was handed, I am not sure when the next part will be out. It'll be just a short little one-shot. I am planning on it being about Ginny committing an asinine act in order to get herself noticed and hopefully foes horribly, horribly wrong. We'll see. Until then, hope you enjoyed this one.


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